The Flesh of the Frozen: The 68th Hunger Games
by Pravus Nox
Summary: It's Pravus Nox's second year as Head Gamemaker, and he has promised the best arena in decades. Twenty-four tributes may enter, but only one will leave... alive. This knowledge will haunt each tribute as they fight across the arctic landscape, and drive some tributes to do the unspeakable, to survive the sub-zero terrain.
1. Prologue Part One: The Oncoming Night

**Hello, all. I guess this is where the author's note goes. This is a SYOT so just PM me your character info. The more detailed, the better. Requirements: **

**Age, Gender, District, Training Score, Favourite Weapon, First and Last Name, personality, etc.**

**Cheers,**

** and enjoy,**

**P.S. The tribute list is in part 3 of the Prologue.**

* * *

The Head Gamemaker was seated in his office, intensely scribbling in a notebook. His eraser was non-existent; worn down to a nub after hours of continuous use. The paper he was writing on had become a uniform gray, as a result of the thousands of lines that had been erased as quickly as they had been drawn; each line, no matter how big it was, leaving only a small imprint after its departure.

"Much like human lives" the Gamemaker mused. His pencil caressed the paper, tracing the same lines erased moments before, but in a different way barely noticeable to human eye. Finally, after hours of erasing and redrawing, adding and removing minute details, it was finished. It was his masterpiece, his Mona Lisa, but to others, the citizens of The Capitol, it would be known as the arena of the 68th Hunger Games. The Capitolites, he thought, wallowing in a pit of self-indulgence, could not possibly appreciate the absolute wonder of his creation. The Capitolites were beyond pity in his mind, even though he would be considered among their ranks; painted with the same brush as the saying goes. But he was not one of them, nor was he from the districts. He did not believe that he could even be the same species as them, for if Homo sapiens sapiens could happily live their lives as ignorant Capitol gluttons, or willingly let themselves be abused and enslaved like the inhabitants of the districts, then surely they could not possibly grow to become as intelligent as he was. However, before he could dwell further upon the subject, the door to his office opened and President Snow emerged from it.

"Hello, Pravus." he said cheerfully. The Head Gamemaker ignored him, and pretended to add to his drawing- not that it needed anything, he thought, it was perfect in every way.

**Head Gamemaker's P.O.V.-**

"You realize that if your arena had not been as big a success as it was last year, I would have you shot right now." His voice, even when it was cheerful, seemed like it was laced with poison every time he talked, like a venomous snake preparing to strike.

"Whatever for?" I replied, not even bothering to look up. Lately I've considered his threats empty, even though, more often than not, were not. Especially since when one is threatened on a daily basis, even the effect of President Snow's threats diminishes over time.

"You may be the Head Gamemaker, but that doesn't mean you can just ignore people at will. It's a good thing you excel at your job, because if you were anything less you'd be dead by now." I can tell in his voice that he has little tolerance for me today. I often find amusement in pushing people to their tolerance's limit (their expressions are priceless), however pushing someone over their limit, especially President Snow, can be life-threatening (I speak from previous experience. I still have the scars.)

"Then I will endeavor to continue my excellent work." I say with what I hope looks like a sincere smile.

"You had better... for your own sake." He adds. A long silence passes. He walks across the room and looks at my beautiful creation. The silence is finally broken by Snow, his cheerful (and poisonous) tone now returned to his voice.

"Have you finished the arena design yet?" he says while peering at my masterpiece.

"I've finished the initial design," I respond, "however it still has to be transferred into an electronic format.

"Remind me again why you insist on using paper instead of the design program?"

"The design program is for-" I have to remind myself to refrain from using the term 'incompetent Capitolites'. For some reason most people take offense to that phrase. "-unimaginative people. A good Gamemaker does not require a machine's help with making a glorious creation such as this."

"Hmm... well, no one can say you're not committed." Snow comments. As he starts to leave, he says "I hope I don't need to remind you, but the Games start in three months, and if the arena is not finished, then being shot is the best thing you can hope for." As he walks out, he adds "no matter how glorious the arena is. Good day to you, Pravus."


	2. Prologue Part 2: The Cask of Amontillado

Prologue Part 2: The Cask of Amontillado

**Hello all,**

**So far, the D1 female, the D2 male, and the D6 male are taken. The tribute profile form is on my profile.**

**Cheers, and enjoy,**

* * *

**Head Gamemaker's P.O.V.-**

Five minutes later, there is a knock at my door.

"Come in." I say. The door slowly opens to reveal an anxious-looking assistant. Probably his first day, Pravus thought.

"Y-you called for me, sir?" he stammers.

"Obviously. You wouldn't be here if I hadn't."

O-oh, uh s-sorry Mr. Noxus, sir." he replies nervously. I can see he's starting to sweat. It takes all of my self-control to keep from laughing at him. It is always entertaining to intimidate the new assistants. They have the funniest faces when they're nervous.

"I need you to transfer these arena drawings into an electronic file; can you do that?"

"Uh, yes Mr. Noxus." I can tell by his voice that he has no idea how to do this. In their efforts to appear helpful, the new assistants always seem to dig themselves into holes.

"Good, because there's nothing more irritating than an incompetent assistant. What's your name?"

"S-Seneca Crane, sir."

"Are there two S's in Seneca?"

"No, just one, sir."

"Then why did you pronounce two?" I say in a serious tone. Seneca looks mortified. I briefly wonder if he's going to start crying. I had one assistant that broke down crying once. She ran away in tears, wailing so loud I could hear her on the other side of the building. As I recall, the last I heard from her she had quit and became a tribute escort. I think her name was 'Effing Tinket' or something like that.

"S-sorry sir. I'm just a bit nervous." He finally manages to blurt out. "It's only m-my first day here."

I decide to go easy on him. Unlike the others, he seems to show some promise. He might even be Head Gamemaker material.

"That's quite understandable." I reply. "You may go."

His face floods with relief. "Y-yes sir, uh thank you sir." As he leaves my office, I say "One more thing Seneca,"

"Yes sir?" he responds.

"Mr. Heavensbee will be happy to assist you with those plans. He's just down the hall." He smiles. "Thank you, Mr. Noxus, sir."

As soon as the door closes, I smile to myself and tilt my head back. After all that work, a small nap seems like a good idea. I envision my beautiful, flawless arena. This year's arena was much different than last year's. Last year's arena was inspired by the Edgar Allen Poe poem 'The Cask of Amontillado.' It was one of the few indoor arenas, set in a large catacombs-like cave. The arena was a maze of brick walls with just enough empty space to house a rather small Cornucopia, which was also made of bricks. In some areas, there were brick rooms that would sometimes contain a hidden trap or a challenge. One room, in particular, contained two glasses; one contained water, while the other contained a deadly poison. The unlucky tribute, in order to escape, had to drink one of the glasses. Unfortunately, the tribute encased within the room chose the correct glass, much to my displeasure. At midnight, some of the brick walls would move, opening up passageways and, in some cases, trapping tributes in. The arena was a huge success, despite the fact that the victor ended up with a severe case of claustrophobia. This year's arena was going to be different. While it wouldn't look as interesting as the 67th, this arena is going to have many more surprises. I chuckled to myself. Oh, what the tributes wouldn't give to know what's going to happen.

* * *

**Note: I do not own the Hunger Games series, or rights to any of its characters. If I did, this would be a movie, rather than a fanfiction. **

**On another note, put the Head Gamemaker's full name (Pravus Improbus Nox) in Google Translate from English to Latin. The names of most of my characters usually mean something. **


	3. Prologue Part Three: The Tributes

Prologue Part **Three**

The Tributes

** Originally, the prologue was supposed to be in two parts, but I needed a place to put the tribute list (who is taken, who is not, etc.) l just put a little passage here anyways so it isn't all an author's note. Also there's a little hint to the climate of the arena, though I'm pretty sure only we Canadians would get it. There's always Google Maps, though. In addition, I can use this opportunity to describe what the Head Gamemaker looks like. I keep forgetting that I'm the only one who knows :).**

**As always, **

**Cheers, and enjoy,**

**Note: THERE IS AN AUTHORS NOTE AT THE BOTTOM**

* * *

Everything was ready. The arena had been created and built in record time. The arena was built near what was formerly Yellowknife, NWT*******. The mutts had been designed and were being kept underneath the arena. The traps had been carefully set. The jet-black cornucopia brightly contrasted with its surroundings, ready to be filled with the life-saving supplies and the life-taking weapons that the tributes will fight (and die) for in only five days. For The Capitol, the waiting was unbearable. Everyone was desperate to know anything and everything about what was in store for the unlucky tributes. Pravus absolutely despised this time of year. Every time he left the Gamemakers' building, he was surrounded by photographers, reporters, cameramen, and announcers of all kinds. They were like seagulls, and he was the unattended hot dog. The Capitol's most popular talk shows regularly sent invitations promising large amounts of money to be their guest star. He would have ignored them all, if President Snow hadn't ordered him to accept the invitations. It seemed Snow did not approve of his anti-social behavior, or he just wanted to see Pravus suffer through sixty minutes of questions he obviously wouldn't be allowed to answer.

"Oh well," the Gamemaker sighed, "better get this over with." As he prepared to leave for the interview, he took the chance to look himself over in the mirror. He was tall, 6'1" to be exact, with medium-length, coal-black hair styled upwards; no mean feat considering the thickness of his hair. His skin was almost bone-white, due to the majority of his day spent inside. He had blue-grey eyes originally, but had them surgically altered to be bright red surrounding the pupil, and slowly darkening towards the outer part of his iris. He wore black eye shadow and a thin line of eyeliner on around the top part of his eye. He had thin lips coated with white lipstick that was the same shade as his skin. He also added a black eye shadow-like material to his cheek hollows. He had short sideburns, ending in a point at about the middle of his ears. He usually wore a black suit with red pinstripes, which slowly faded to black towards the bottom of his pants. He may hate Capitolites, but that didn't mean he didn't have to look good. However, for his interview, he decided to look as unprofessional as possible. He decided to wear a black sweatshirt with dark grey cargo pants. As he exited his house, a small grin materialized on his face. He couldn't wait to see the interviewer's face.

* * *

**Here is the list of tributes; sorry if I spell someone's pen name wrong:**

_District 1 Male:_ Baron Barnet (17) by **Sinister0077**

_District 1 Female: _Rosemarie "Roma" Charlotte McKinnon (18) by **Emmeline C. Thornbrooke**

_District 2 Male:_ Kenton Steele (18) by **Hoprocker**

_District 2 Female:_ Marcia Dall Maylin (17) by **DauntlessInDistrict9**

District 3 Male:

_District 3 Female: _Pandora Diskett (13) by **Hoprocker**

_District 4 Male: _Mark Shines (17) by **gorrillaface345**

_District 4 Female: _Teela Rowena Nadon (18) by **DauntlessInDistrict9**

District 5 Male:

District 5 Female:

_District 6 Male: _Titus Andronicus (16) by **theflyingpotatomeatball**

_District 6 Female:_ Bianca Dalca (12) by **Sinister0077**

District 7 Male:

District 7 Female:

_District 8 Male:_ Ludus Concisor (16) by **theflyingpotatomeatball**

District 8 Female:

District 9 Male:

_District 9 Female: _Aja Erity Fallon (18) by **DauntlessInDistrict9**

_District 10 Male: _Trevor Blackwater (18) by **Avah Phoenix **

_District 10 Female: _Femi Blackwater (16) by **Avah Phoenix**

District 11 Male:

District 11 Female:

District 12 Male:

District 12 Female:

**Tributes Acquired: 13/24 **

* * *

**3/19/2014- **

*****= Yellowknife, Northwest Territories, Canada **

**3/20/2014-**

**I may not be able to update for a while. **

**Figures, as soon as I start this the 10,000 projects appear out of nowhere...**

**Awesome! We now have 1/4 of our tributes, and it hasn't even been a week since I posted this!**

**This has definitely surpassed my expectations and thank you to those who submitted a tribute and those who reviewed! **

**Sorry if these author notes are bothering you, since it probably **

**says that there's an update even if there's only just this. **

**Therefore, from now on, I will only update this when I have a new tribute to add, or something else important.**

**As consolation, I wrote a small little blurb aboot the arena. (Spoilers!)**

* * *

_The arena, as most of you guessed, is in a winter setting. _

_Some of you have probably also guessed the truth about a certain tribute..._

_Mountains will be one of the few terrains present in the arena. _

_In addition, there will be an... interesting complication at the beginning of the Games._

_I guess you could say there's sNOw arena like it. *rimshot*_

_The title is a reference to two distinct events... One is obvious; one is not. _

_The first one, you should get easily, but at this point you'd have to be a _

_mind-reader to guess the second meaning (Since it's still in my head). _

_But worry not, my friends; all will be revealed soon..._

* * *

**Sorry again... (for the constant updates AND the pun)**

**5/2/2014-**

**Hello again! I am dreadfully sorry for the lack of updates/notices for this. **

**I've had an almost constant amount of assignments and projects to complete, and unfortunately they're not going to stop anytime soon. :(**

**I'm also trying to read Lord of the Flies, Battle Royale, The Picture of Dorian Gray, 20,000 Leagues Under The Sea, and The Fault in Our Stars all at once, **

**so I have a full schedule. **

**Right now, we're almost at the halfway mark for our tributes!**

_**And speaking of tributes (slight spoiler below; just skip the non-bolded text if you don't like spoilers)...**_

As most of you have probably guessed already, there is a _special_ tribute among the ranks.

He was mentioned in the Hunger Games because of his _unique_ actions.

I have been trying to read up on his _special_ condition, though it's not known whether it was caused by

near-starvation or mental disease. As cannibalism is (hopefully) a rare event, there are not many books on the subject

(at least at my local library.) In fact, there are no books at all on cannibalism resulting from mental disease.

Therefore, I will most likely have to use the interwebs. Forgive me for any inaccuracies.*

_*note: since this is fanfiction, accuracy is probably not a common theme and most people probably don't care. _

_However, I try to make things as realistic as possible. It's kind of an OCD thing._

**Note(again): it's about 1 AM here, so ^that^ will probably not even be legible English.**

**As always, cheers,**

**-Pravus**

**ANOTHER NOTE: unfortunately, due to school, there will probably not be any updates until June or July.**

* * *

**7/2/14 -**

**Yes, the rumors are true; the next chapter is officially in the works! Expect it either today or tomorrow.**

**Thank you for your patience and I hope you like it!**

**Also, I will be needing expendables (bloodbath characters). **

**as always,**

**Cheers, and enjoy,**

**-Pravus**


	4. District One Reapings

**Chapter One - The Luxury District: Expect the Unexpected**

* * *

**A/N: Yes, I finally got this up! I'm sorry it took so long. Also, I should mention that I don't really like writing the Reapings. And hopefully, the next Reapings won't be as long as these. Then we can get down to killing these guys off :D (No I'm not related to George R. R. Martin). Anyways, I made a poll for you assorted peoples to fill out. (I'll usually make one after every chapter, and these polls may or may not influence the story's outcome). As always, Cheers,**  
**And enjoy.**  
**P.S. - I'm going to need some expendables (also known as bloodbaths) characters. Also, I seem to be getting a lot of 'good guys' and not many antagonistic characters, so evil jerk-faces are also appreciated. XD**  
**P.S.S. - Yes, I know I didn't get all the qualities/back-stories/etc. that were included in the submission, so please don't hate me if everything in your submission isn't included.**

* * *

**Baron Barnet (17)**

Baron woke up feeling a wet sensation on his hand. He groggily looked over, and saw his right hand immersed in a bowl of water. Idiot brothers, he thought; didn't they know that prank didn't work? He raised his left hand to rub his eyes, but was met instead with a sizeable pile of shaving cream on his face. Laughter erupted from his doorway. His two brothers were howling at him.

"You bloody dipshits, that's not even how the prank's supposed to go!"

"Doesn't matter, we got you!" his fifteen-year-old brother, Prince said in between bursts of laughter.

"Hey Baron, can I borrow some shaving cream for the Reaping? I seem to be out." his other brother, King snickered.

Grumbling, Baron rose from his bed. After dressing himself, (and wiping off as much of the cream he could) he dragged himself down to the dining room where his father and stepmother sat eating breakfast.

"Had another close shave with your brothers, did you?" his father joked. His father was the only one in his family who cared about him, but in the mornings, he was not yet awake enough to offer much sympathy. The rest of the family hated him because he was a bastard child. He was even named 'Baron' to symbolically show his inferiority to his brothers King and Prince.

"You shouldn't provoke your brothers, Baron. Now wash that shaving cream off your face; the Reaping's in a few hours, and you are not going to do anything to ruin this glorious event for King." This year, King has been selected to volunteer as District One's male tribute. Hopefully there's a repeat performance of last year's Hunger Games. Last year, the District One's male tribute was slowly crushed to death between two brick walls. Baron grinned at the thought of King flattened like a pancake as he walked up the stairs to the washroom. As he washed his face, he even considered the possibility of volunteering himself. Ever since he could hold a sword, Baron had been training with one of District One's numerous past victors named Glitter Hale. How hilarious that would be, Baron thought, to see King's smug expression wiped clean off his face. It would be a thousand times more humiliating for King if Baron won. All the hardships in the games would be worth seeing King forced to pretend to be happy for his victorious brother.

"Baron! It's time for the Reaping!" his father shouted from downstairs.

"I'm coming." Baron shouted back. He looked at himself in the mirror. He was tall, muscular, and from what he heard, exceptionally handsome. His caramel skin, black wavy hair, and hazel eyes made it easy to differentiate him from his family, who all had blonde hair and blue eyes. His father said he got these traits from his mother, who died in childbirth. Apart from this, all Baron had left of his mother was a heart-shaped locket with a picture of her on the inside.

"Baron, get down here this moment! I will not have you ruin King's special day!" his mother screeched at him. Baron sighed.

"I should have stayed at Gloss's." he mused. Baron often stayed away from his hellhole of a home; going from party to party. He was quite outgoing and charming, and was almost always going out with someone (though at this point he was not with anyone.) He never let his party going interfere with his training, however.

As Baron walked out the door with his family, his father whispered to him, "Don't worry; if the impossible happens and King wins, at least you won't have to deal with him for two weeks."

Baron whispered back, "I thought you would want him to win."

"King's strong, but he's nowhere near the sharpest knife in the kitchen," his father replied with a smile. "You need to be smart, as well as strong, to win the Hunger Games."

* * *

**Rosemarie "Roma" McKinnon (18)**

"Rosie! Wake up Rosie dear!"

"Hmmhmhhmhmh..."

"Rosie... WAKE. UP. TODAY IS THE Reaping!"

"Hmhmmm... don't call me Rosie..."

"Rosemary McKinnon you get up right now!"

"Ugh... fine"

Rosemarie sat up, rubbing her pale green eyes. One more Reaping, she thought, one more Reaping and I won't have to worry about fighting to the death. Of course in District One, there was almost always a volunteer to take your place, but having your name drawn was still a worrying experience.

As she got up, her brother appeared in the doorway. "Hey, Roma, Renee stopped by fifteen minutes ago. She said she'll meet you at the Reaping. Oh, and she mentioned something about a job opening at a hospital... if that means anything to you."

"Wait, what did she say? Which hospital?" Rosemarie replied.

"I don't know; frankly you should be glad I remembered anything she said this early in the morning."

"It's 9 A.M., Josiah."

"Well it's early for me, then." he said with a smile. "Now hurry up; the sooner we get there, the sooner it'll be over, which means the sooner I can eat lunch."

After wolfing down a delicious breakfast, Rosemarie went upstairs to get ready. Before she left, she looked at herself in the mirror. Her ruby-red dress complemented her waist-length light-red hair, and contrasted nicely with her light green eyes. She was taller than most girls, standing at 5'7". As she walked towards the square, she spotted her best friend, Renee, standing in line. It was her last year, too, and they were planning to celebrate it after the Reaping.

"Hey, Renee!" Roma shouted.

"Hi Rose! Did you get my message?" Renee replied. Despite Roma's requests, Renee almost always called her 'Rose'; a name Roma considered too normal.

"Only some of it. Josiah isn't the most reliable messenger. He said that you said something about a job opening at a hospital... is it true?"

"Yep," Renee said, "one of the doctors retired at the Sapphire Memorial Hospital, so one of the assistants was promoted, and they said they were looking for a new assistant, so I told them about you, and now they want to interview you next Monday!" Renee suddenly hugged her friend. Roma awkwardly accepted the embrace.

"You'll finally be able to fulfill your dream of opening up your own practice... if you get the job." Renee said.

"I'm sure I'll get the job. After all, there aren't many people in District One who have an interest in medicine." Roma responded.

"Come on, the Reaping's starting!" Renee said as they walked toward the eighteen-year-olds section.

* * *

**Baron Barnet**

As Baron stood in the 17-year-old section, we watched the new escort walk onto the stage. Last year, the old escort had a heart attack during the Reaping, so they had to have the Head Peacekeeper draw the names. No one ever heard what happened to the old escort; not that anyone cared. Baron tuned out the Dark Days speech as usual, and looked around. He hadn't heard much about whom the female tribute was going to be; in fact he hadn't heard anything about who was chosen. Probably because nobody wanted to have King as their partner. To the surprise of many, the escort walked over to the boys' Reaping ball first, babbling something about chivalry. As he picks one of the pieces of paper, Baron thinks about whether to volunteer. Every year he did this, wondering whether to volunteer or spend yet another year with his family, but this year would give him a great opportunity to get back at them by taking King's place.

Before the escort has the chance to read the name on the paper, Baron shouts, "I VOLUNTEER!" and without looking back, races up to the platform. He hears screaming behind him, either his brother's or his mother's, but doesn't stop until he reaches the stage.

As he turns around, he sees King at the bottom of the stage, shouting and screaming at him. Baron is unable to suppress a grin, and he can see he's not the only one. Throughout the crowd, there are mixed emotions. Some are growling at him, while others are cheering and laughing at King. As the Peacekeepers drag King away, kicking and screaming, the escort asks over the noise, "What is your name?"

"My name is Baron Barnet, and I am the future victor of the 68th Hunger Games." he beams.

By now most of the crowd had started cheering. Only a few of the Academy trainers and Baron's remaining family members, save for his dad, were still scowling at him.

* * *

**Rosemarie (Roma) McKinnon**

After the cheering died down, the escort removed a slip of paper from the girl's Reaping ball. Roma suddenly remembered that she hadn't heard of any female volunteers this year. Usually the school was abuzz with gossip about the two volunteers, but this year she had only heard of King, and after that incident, she was sure to hear more about him. Real fear gripped her now. What if she is called, and nobody volunteers? Roma thought, she wouldn't have the strength to fight someone like Baron... what could she do?

"Rosemarie McKinnon."

The escort's words cut through her like butter.

She stood still; maybe someone would volunteer, she thought.

"Rosemarie McKinnon? Please come forward."

As she saw the Peacekeepers coming for her, she managed to walk towards the stage before they could drag her there. Somehow, she managed to put on a brave face, and not show how terrified she was. She shook hands with Baron, and then looked directly past the audience; if she saw her family or Renee now, she would certainly break down. As she was escorted down the stairs, she knew that she would have to come up with a plan, if she ever wanted to see District One again.

* * *

**I keep writing "Rosemary" instead of "Rosemarie". Thankfully I noticed and corrected it. XD**

**I can't tell you how thankful I am for all the people who have reviewed the story so far and waited patiently for my return. You guys are freakin' awesome!**  
**-Pravus**


End file.
